And yet the tale was so
simple and sweet and sad and unpretending.
When Dr. Conwell first assumed charge of the
little congregation that led him to Philadelphia
it was really a little church both in its numbers
and in the size of the building that it occupied,
but it quickly became so popular under his
leadership that the church services and Sunday-
school services were alike so crowded that there
was no room for all who came, and always there
were people turned from the doors.
One afternoon a little girl, who had eagerly
wished to go, turned back from the Sunday-school
door, crying bitterly because they had told her
that there was no more room. But a tall, black-
haired man met her and noticed her tears and,
stopping, asked why it was that she was crying,
and she sobbingly replied that it was because
they could not let her into the Sunday-school.
``I lifted her to my shoulder,'' says Dr. Conwell,
in telling of this; for after hearing the story
elsewhere I asked him to tell it to me himself,
for it seemed almost too strange to be true.
``I lifted her to my shoulder''--and one realizes
the pretty scene it must have made for the little
girl to go through the crowd of people, drying
her tears and riding proudly on the shoulders of
the kindly, tall, dark man! ``I said to her that
I would take her in, and I did so, and I said to
her that we should some day have a room big
enough for all who should come.
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